


Addicted to You

by angelprototype



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Swan Queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4727996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelprototype/pseuds/angelprototype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pure SQ fluff. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addicted to You

"If you insist on being my shadow for this evening why don't you make yourself useful? Here, mince the garlic and onion for me."  


Emma raised a fine brow, eyeballing said veggies. "Ok...so when you say mince..."  


Regina sighed, handing over her prize Shun cutting knife to the blonde. "Extra small, dear."  


"Right, just double checking."  


The former mayor and sheriff had finally, _finally_ , mended what little relationship they had had after the whole "Marian Incident" (with the help of Henry...and maybe some pushing from Archie). Emma tried, she really did, to try and win back Regina's trust (and friendship) on her own. First it was just little things; morning visits on her way to work to drop off coffee (black, two sugars, the way Ruby swore up and down the mayor drank it). Then she upgraded to daily lunch surprises of fresh kale salads, grilled chicken sandwiches, and even the occasional root beer (when Regina would allow herself to indulge). Every so often Regina would come home to find lilacs or calla lilies in a nondescript vase on her front porch with nothing but a stark, white card from Game of Thorns with a childishly drawn smiley face in place of a signature.  


One night Henry questioned the new center piece of flowers at the dinner table, to which Regina merely shrugged. "Your mother is running out of ideas."  


After an hour of pestering and patent (and creepily familiar) puppy eyes from her son, Regina finally caved and called the sheriff, agreeing to a sort of parlay. But only because of Henry. It was always because of Henry...obviously.  


And so we find our heroines in the here and now, with Regina scoffing at Emma while she tries, and somewhat fails, at the mere task of chopping onions.  


"Ah crap," the blonde swore as a stray chunk of onion flew from the cutting board and onto the kitchen floor by her feet. "Uh, sorry. Damn onions are sliding all over the place."  


"Have you not done this before?"  


Emma actually looked sheepish as she picked up the fallen onion strand. "Mary Margaret never really let me in the kitchen after I took a screwdriver to her toaster."  


The brunette chuckled and Emma felt her cheeks heat up at the throaty sound. "Want to see a trick?"  


Regina took the knife from Emma's hands without waiting for a response. "If you push what you have already cut into a little stack and set the knife like this," the former mayor slid the blade across the cutting board, piling the onion and garlic Emma had previously been cutting together, "it makes it much easier, and less messy in your case, to cut them into smaller pieces." The brunette set the tip of the blade down on the cutting board, rest her palm on the top of the knife, and proceeded to lift and lower the blade in a quick see-sawing motion along the pile of vegetables.  


All the while Emma watched with rapt attention at the former queen in her element. A small smile graced her lips as Regina explained her cutting process.  


Did she care? Nah, not really. Did Regina actually look at peace doing something that wasn't murder (or tormenting Snow)? Most definitely.  


_That cashmere sweater she's got on ain't bad to look at either...Oh, oh she's talking...shit._  


"Ms. Swan? Are you even listening?"  


"What? Yea, totally!"  


"Then why are you still staring at me instead of getting me the bowl I asked you for?"  


_Damn, caught._  


"Oh, sorry. Here." The blonde spun on a heel, hastily grabbing a small bowl from the counter. As she turned, Regina was moving to set the knife in the sink and the two women accidentally bumped into the other, Emma dropping the plastic bowl and Regina fumbling with the knife.  


"Shit, Regina, I'm so sorry. You ok?" The blonde knelt to pick up the bowl and utensil, brow furrowing when she noticed a bit of blood on the kitchen tile. "Did you cut yourself?"  


"It's fine, Emma." The brunette's back was turned, her hand under the running tap in the sink. "It's just a scratch."  


Setting the items aside Emma peeked over Regina's shoulder, eyes wide as she took in the amount of blood in the sink.  


"Scratch my ass! Lemme see that."

The darker woman couldn't help but chuckle. "Interesting choice of words, Ms. Swan."  


"What?" The blonde blushed, a scowl marring her face as she ran the words over in her head. "Oh shut up, smart ass." She sidled up next to the former mayor and pulled her hand from under the water. A hiss escaped her lips as she surveyed the damage to the brunette's hand.  


"Shit, Regina. You took a good chunk out of your finger."  


Regina clicked her tongue in annoyance, ignoring the careful, almost tender way the blonde cradled her hand within her own. "It's nothing a little magic can't fix."  


At the mention of magic Emma visibly flinched. "Why don't we just do things the old fashioned way and use a first aid kit."  


Raising a fine brow Regina eyed the sheriff. She supposed she understood the blonde's aversion to magic, what with her powers gone haywire just months before. Even though Emma had come to terms with her magic (and had weekly lessons), she was still skittish using them around others. So with a small nod the brunette acquiesced.  


"Very well."  


Like the flick of a switch Emma's mood did a complete 180, her smile all but dazzling Regina. "Great! So, uh," the sheriff fumbled, blushing in sudden embarrassment as she realized she had been holding the darker woman's hand this whole time.  


_Her hands are so warm... Wait, right, letting go now._  


Slowly, so as not to spook Regina, Emma pulled her hand back and rubbed at the back of her neck. "Um, where do you keep your kit?"  


Regina bit back a witty retort, choosing instead to roll her eyes at the younger woman. "There's one in my en suite, but the smaller kit in the powder room across the hall shall suffice."  


"Right, powder room. Duh. I'll uh, be right back then." Emma backpedaled a few steps, "Keep that finger under the water!" before taking off out of the kitchen and down the hall.  


The mayor snorted. "She acts as though I don't know how to handle a simple paper cut."  


"I heard that!"  


Regina blinked then outright laughed as the blonde yelled from across the house. With a heavy sigh she faced the sink again, turning the water to a comfortable luke warm, and went about re-rinsing the wound.  


_For someone who handles a sword and gun daily her hands are remarkable soft..._  


She didn't really know when it happened, just that, at some point during Emma's whole "They don't understand me. Not like you do," speech did Regina realize the churning heat in her gut was affection for the blonde. With both hands on the counter Regina leaned over the sink with a shaky sigh. How was she supposed to deal with this... this!  


She knew this was a bad idea. She should have just left things as they were, but how could she say no to her son? _Their_ son?  


Regina inwardly groaned. Their son. She was forever stuck with the infuriating idiot for Henry's sake. That moronic, selfless, childish--  


"Found it!"  


The brunette started, spinning around to face the sheriff. Emma's eyes shone with something akin to pride at such a simple task that Regina couldn't help but mirror her smile.  


Such a child, honestly.  


The blonde grinned triumphantly, setting the kit on the breakfast bar and patting the stool next to her.  


"Doctor Swan at your service!"

"That sounds...reassuring." Regina quipped as she turned off the tap and gingerly sat on the proffered stool, wounded hand out in offering.

**Author's Note:**

> so... I don't really know where to take this but I know I don't want to stop it. suggestions? comments? any help is appreciated ^_^ I aim to please.


End file.
